


tranquility

by princedamianos (cuteashale)



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Fluff, Frottage, M/M, Post-Kings Rising
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 21:24:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7861639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuteashale/pseuds/princedamianos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You look like something out of a tale meant for scaring children into their beds,” Laurent says, stepping back as he fixes a last short twig through Damen’s riot of curls.</p>
<p>
  <em>Day Four - Spring in Arles</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	tranquility

**Author's Note:**

> i couldn't have done this without the cheerleading and editing of my dear K! thank you so much. also, this fic would never have been born without A - she dragged me into captive prince and helps me think up silly ideas like these that (sometimes) end up turned into fics.

One morning late into their negotiations with Patras, when their presence is more formality than necessity, Laurent wakes Damen with a single finger on his lips requesting silence. There’s a curl to his mouth that spells mischief and Damen has found there is nothing he enjoys more than being a part of it. They dress and sneak from their rooms, muffling giggles behind their hands as they creep through the hallways past the palace guards.

 

After a stop at the stables, Laurent’s giddy laughter follows them past the gate as they burst free to the sound of pounding hooves. Undoubtedly, the secret is out. Laurent came without disguises this time and his glowing blond head leaves little mystery as to who is riding out so early in the morning. Knowing Laurent as he does, Damen is sure the guards have been left with strict orders to keep their secret until Laurent gives word otherwise.

 

They ride side-by-side for an hour, galloping through grassy fields and past a burbling creek before coming to a stop at a cluster of trees. The horses are left to graze in the nearby grass, too well trained to wander far. Laurent takes Damen’s hand in his and leads him through a gap in the trees, ducking beneath low hanging branches and looking back to watch Damen lift them out of his way.

 

Birdsong fills the air around them, carried on the wind that whistles through the trees. A leaf drifts down and lands on Damen’s head, caught in the tangle of his hair whipped up by a morning of riding. When he reaches up to brush it away, pale fingers curl around the gold cuffing his wrist and stop the motion. Damen cocks his head as Laurent steps closer to tuck a sprig of flowers behind his ear, palmed while his attention was elsewhere. He seals the gift with a kiss that has Damen’s mouth splitting in a dopey smile even as Laurent slips away, moving through the forest with new purpose and leaving Damen to catch up.

 

It doesn’t take long for Laurent to amass a collection of flowers and leaves that he displays humbly on Damen’s head. His hair becomes home to a veritable bouquet of wildflowers and the odd twisted twig. Laurent places them with care, snaking some through his curls and fitting others in above his ears. Damen is still and patient, smiling warmly every time Laurent gifts him with another.

 

“You look like something out of a tale meant for scaring children into their beds,” Laurent says, stepping back as he fixes a last short twig through Damen’s riot of curls. He looks over his handiwork with pride, a teasing glint to his eye. “A _yeti_.”

 

“I’ve heard of those!” Damen exclaims, expression alight with boyish glee. He stomps his feet as he advances on Laurent, deep rumbling growls leaving his smiling mouth. Both arms raise high and he puffs out his chest to look even larger than he is. Laurent backs away from him, laughing, and gives a short squeal as he’s lifted into the air. Damen tosses him over his shoulder with all the effort of picking up a child and continues growling as he slings an arm around Laurent’s thighs to keep him in place.

 

“You beast,” Laurent laughs, pounding his fists against Damen’s back with diminutive force. “Put me down.” A laughing growl is Damen’s response, followed by a bounce as he hoists Laurent up and begins tromping through the woods.

 

Laurent’s complaints, if one could call them that, fade and his giggles and Damen’s warm laughter mingle. Damen’s path moves aimlessly forward, stepping past trees and over bushes as he carries Laurent deeper into the woods. Minutes pass before Laurent’s squirming resumes and he begins complaining of lightheadedness, encouraging Damen to swing him around and set him on his feet. Laurent’s face is rosy pink from his upside down journey but that hasn’t dampened his smile in the slightest; it shines sunny and full of teeth, more relaxed than Damen has seen in weeks.

 

Blue eyes glitter above that smile, hidden beneath windswept hair that Laurent pushes absently aside. Damen reaches out to cup Laurent’s face in one hand and smiles when his chin lifts into the touch. Gone are the days where Laurent would recoil under his touch or lock up after the first sign of intimacy. Their mouths come together, upturned lips relaxing to fold effortlessly around one another.

 

They press against the nearest tree, still kissing, Damen’s hands falling to circle Laurent’s waist and lift him off his feet. Automatic, Laurent winds his legs around Damen’s waist and pushes both hands into his hair, sending bits of leaf and colorful spring flowers tumbling down Damen’s back.

 

“Laurent,” Damen says, cupped hands hot on Laurent’s thighs. It’s the only prompting needed for Laurent to nod and whisper a _yes_ into Damen’s mouth as he kisses it again.

 

Through the fumbling removal of clothes and clumsy kisses, Laurent’s mouth an amused crescent against Damen’s, they discover a nearby meadow between a parting of trees. Damen allows Laurent to find his footing in the long grass, wildflowers brushing their ankles as they pause their kisses to spread Damen’s chiton across the ground.

 

Laurent, bright eyed and flush with blooming pleasure, grabs hold of Damen and together they tumble to the forest floor. Golden hair spills down Damen’s wrist as he cradles the back of Laurent’s head, light as silk against his skin. With desire seeping molten through their veins they kiss again, mouths and bodies moving in tandem.

 

Every roll of Damen’s hips pulls an answering surge from Laurent’s. As heat builds their kiss breaks and they breathe into one another, chests heaving as one. Damen speaks Laurent’s name softly as he slides both palms down his arms, finding his hands and slotting their fingers together. He lifts them above their heads and Laurent bares his throat in offering, Damen’s name on his tongue as he hooks a thigh around his waist.

 

Damen’s mouth clings to the hollow of Laurent’s throat, murmuring sweetness into the salt of his skin. Laurent’s lashes flutter against his cheeks, kiss-bruised lips parting as he gasps and arches beneath Damen. They come together, bodies taut with pleasure and hearts beating as one.

 

Damen rolls away when they finish, giving Laurent space to breathe and wipe himself off. His chiton is not only a barrier against the ground, but also a convenient towel when there is nothing else to clean up with. Laurent wipes at Damen’s stomach as well and curls against him when finished, head pillowed on his chest.

 

A pale arm stretches across his torso and long fingers whisper through the tall grass. Laurent plucks a blade of grass and deposits it on Damen’s arm, another gift in Damen’s ever growing collection of plant life; he can still feel the poke of some of the more carefully placed twigs against his scalp. A bunch of wildflowers join the grass as Laurent begins forming a small, colorful village atop his biceps. He lifts his head to watch the construction, a fond smile on his face as the flowers spread, drifting across his collarbones. Tiny pink flowers tickle his nose and, though he tries not to, Damen sneezes, sending Laurent’s hard work away in a gust of breath. Laurent lifts his head and stares at him, brows drawn, then bursts into laughter, forehead creasing with its force.

 

Damen’s remorse transforms into delight and his mouth splits wide in a smile. They laugh until their stomachs are sore and Laurent is smothering snorts into the side of Damen’s arm. Laurent brushes aside his delicately plucked flora and collapses back on Damen’s chest, his arm draped across Damen’s stomach and Damen’s hand spread on his back.

 

Sunlight drifts through the trees on their right, slanted beams warm on their bare skin. They lie in content silence with only the occasional brush of a pale thumb over warm brown skin or the hush of lips on a forehead.

 

Damen dozes like that, Laurent quiet at his side and the sun heating his body. For so long the thought of relaxation had been impossible. Now they can enjoy a spring afternoon in each other’s arms, assured in the knowledge that nothing and no one can take this away. They have earned this peace.

 

**Author's Note:**

> please leave a comment and let me know what you thought!
> 
> thanks so much for reading :)


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